She put her hands together in prayer and pressed them to her mouth. “You like Jace.” It wasn’t a question but a statement that rocked me to my core. “Dax told me Jace is into you. It’s not hard for anyone to see that you two are fire. And fuck Ryan. He’s always going to be part of your life because of Ethan. You know this.”
Argh! Fire? More like an inferno. And she was right about Ryan.
I sagged my shoulders. “I’m scared. Is that crazy?”
“Scared about?”
I tipped my head at the classroom door. “Him.”
She lit up like airport runway lights in the dark of night. “It’s normal to feel like that. The only guy you’ve ever been with was Ryan.” She kept her voice low.
Jace poked his head out. “Is everything okay?”
“I need to run and finish up some paperwork before I leave today,” Lila said then squeezed my hand. “We’ll talk tonight.”
Once I returned to my classroom, albeit on shaky legs, I stuffed my bag in my desk drawer and locked it.
He twirled a finger around the room. “I like the setup. The pi border is cool.”
The continuous number banner bordered two of the four walls. “I use it as a discussion topic sometimes to remind students there are some things in life that are never-ending, just like in math.”
“How so?” A crease dented the space between his eyebrows.
“You can calculate pi to a million decimal places, but you’ll never reach the end. There’s no neat answer, solution.” I glanced at the banner, my voice quieter. “Sometimes, you have to accept that not everything gets solved or wrapped up in a bow. You just… keep going.”
“That sounds personal.” Jace’s voice was softer than before.
“Divorce will do that to you.”
He went quiet for a moment, and something in his eyes told me he understood loss, too, even if it had nothing to do with a divorce.
“I’m sorry,” he said with genuine concern. Then he gave me a hint of a smile. “For what it’s worth, you seem like you’re doing a damn good job of keeping going.”
I blushed, needing to pivot to another topic, or I just might throw myself at him. “Thank you. Should we go see Coach Perry now?”
He waved a hand at the door. “After you, my lady.”
I angled my head. “Do you like coming up with pet names?”
“Maybe. But you seem to bring out a side of me that, frankly, is new.”
I liked that he was honest, genuine, and made me comfortable but nervous as well. I could see myself with him, and that frightened the hell out of me.
I swallowed thickly as we wound our way through the school halls. “Coach is probably on the football field by now. So we’ll head out there.”
As we passed the display case, Jace backtracked.
“Do you see someone you know?” I searched the collection of framed photos, trophies, and two flags honoring former Pine Valley students who’d gone into service.
“Kandahar,” he whispered, the color draining from his face.
One of the folded American flags sat in a shadow box, and next to it was a small brass plate that read Sergeant Chris Parker. Killed in Action, Kandahar Province.
“Did you know Sergeant Parker?” I asked.
“No.” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his jaw tight.
Suddenly, the air between us was less charged, more fragile. That steel exterior he had vanished. In its place, I saw a man who carried ghosts behind his easy grin.
